


The Waters of Lethe

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Challenge Response, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-13
Updated: 2007-09-13
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Evan Lorne had been strong, stronger than his previous host.  Written for the ironman7 challenge.Prompt: everybody wants to rule the world





	The Waters of Lethe

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Part of him remembered the taste of vanilla ice cream and draft beer at O'Malley's, popcorn and jello and bar-b-ques on the beach. He knew everything that Evan Lorne knew, every detail, every experience, but only part of him remembered it, felt it.

 

He enjoyed most of the memories, the bodies Evan Lorne had made love to, surfing and riding motorcycles across somewhere called Peru. Evan Lorne had been a strong, capable individual, worthy of his presence, a fine vessel for a God. He had been a warrior, heaped with commendations, a fighter and leader deserving of the honour bestowed on him.

 

He wore Evan Lorne proudly even as he subjugated every trace of him.

 

Evan Lorne had been strong, stronger than his previous host. There were occasionally moments when he thought he felt his host's presence, trying to surface, trying to exert influence over the body. Sometimes after being pleasured by his consorts or just before retiring to the sarcophagus, he could feel the weight of the host's presence, clawing its way to the surface, screaming silently to be heard, a ghost of the man who once controlled his destiny. His dreams - when he slept - were haunted by things he'd never done and would never do again… 

 

But it was times such as these, with a planet slowly filling the main viewing screen that he heard it loudest. He fought it back as he ordered his loyal Jaffa to the rings, to the planet, to bring back the young men, to destroy the rest. He accompanied the Jaffa this time, hoping the planet's air would clear his head, let him regain his control. These villagers would be no match for him, it would be a short day on the surface. 

 

He strode along the wooded path with his men cordoned around him, the fight would be almost over by the time they would arrive. Reaching the clearing, he took in the burning huts and the litter of bodies strewn in the dirt like an odd, abstract work of art. He shook his head, forcing away the comparison that made no sense to him. He watched defiantly as his Jaffa rounded up the survivors, gunning them down as he disapproved of them.

 

When he could fight it no longer, he turned away.


End file.
